Child Empath
by Lia Bates
Summary: A Companion brings in Kella, who has been so traumatised by the death of her family that she constantly projects all her emotions.(COMPLETED)
1. Default Chapter

Child Empath  
  
*  
  
Chapter 1  
  
*  
  
A spear of emotion stabbed into Talia's mind, almost knocking her to her knees. Innefectually slapping her hands over her ears, she raised her shields against the battering of grief/pain/terror. Even with her shields at full strength, she could feel the emotion, a high pitched whine that filled the air. Then, as suddenly as it had come, it dissapeared.  
  
Talia sprang into action, hurrying from her quarters and through the passages of the palace, tracing the origin of the emotional surge. She couldn't beleive no one else had felt it!  
  
She emerged in front of the Herald's Colegia, near the Companions stable. She could see the legs of a Companion, and heard muffled sobbing, but blocking her veiw were her husband, Herald Dirk, and the Dean of the Colegia, Teren.  
  
"Talia!" cried Teren, looking releived. "We were just about to get you. I think we could use your help."  
  
"What happened?" Talia exclaimed. "My head still hurts."  
  
"Sterran came in today," began Teren. Sterran was a Companion who had gone out to Choose. "And he was carrying this tiny child - barely a toddler - on his back." Talia was confused. Barely a toddler? Unless Teren was exaggerrating, this was very unusual. "We were talking to Loren at the time - the Blue who has been getting into trouble in the city taverns - and he made a slighting remark about "babes in arms presuming to ride Companions." The poor baby looked absolutely terrified, and if she had a choice, I think she would have bolted." Talia felt sympathetic to the child. In her first year as a trainee, the Blues had been the bane of her existance. "We got rid of Loren, and Dirk tried to lift her down - but as soon as she wasn't touching Sterran anymore, she blasted us with terror!"  
  
"I put her down," Dirk continued, "She ran back to Sterran, and everything went back to normal. I assume you felt the blast, and came running." Talia nodded at this statement. "Do you think you can calm her down?" Dirk continued hopefully. "She's obviously an empath, like you."  
  
"I can try." Replied Talia, not without doubt, and pushed between them.  
  
The girl looked to be about three or four - a shockingly young age to be Chosen, if Chosen she was. Her clothes were well made, but rumpled and dirty. A mop of dark chestnut hair concealed her face, but Talia could clearly hear her fearful sobs. Sterran stood protectively beside her, and as Talia watched, he lowered his head and breathed into her hair.  
  
Talia stepped forward, and the child turned swiftly. Talia had no idea what to expect, but what happened was definately a shock. The girl literally flung herself into Talia's arms, her tiny form heaving with hysterical tears.  
  
Talia did not have to look far to find the source of the child's distress - the girl was wildly and uncontrollably projecting everything she felt. Talia gently insinuated herself into the streams of emotion - and found herself pulled into anothers memories.  
  
*  
  
She sat, looking through her eyes, in the child's mind. She was in a wagon, piled high with goods. Near her was sitting a girl, of about twelve years. If Talia had been in control of the body, she would have gasped.  
  
The girl was like a younger version of her. Same red-brown curls, same chestnut eyes - the only difference was size - this girl was tall, whereas Talia still kept the tiny stature of a child.  
  
The girl was reading, while the child whose mind she shared twisted a cat's cradle between her fingers. It was a restful scene, one of quiet domesticity. It was soothing scene, one that calmed and steadied a worried mind - but it shattered with a scream.  
  
The girl dropped her book, and the knotted string slipped from numb fingers as the child looked up, frightened. The girl snatched her younger sister up, and the pair tumbled from the suddenly motionless wagon.  
  
Twp people were sitting on the front of the wagon. One, a woman, looked like the girl, and Talia, but with eyes of a dark, gold flecked green. The other was a man, with dark hair and eyes. Talia surmised them to be the parents of the two girls.  
  
The man spoke. "Hanna! Take Kella and the purse and run! Hide! Bandits are coming!"  
  
Hanna only nodded, but Talia could see tears starting in her eyes. Responding to this fear, tears began to run down the cheeks of little Kella. Hanna darted to the wagon, and grabbed a leather satchel, swinging it over her shoulder before darting off the road and into the trees. Talia watched through Kella's eyes as bandits spilled onto the road, blocking her last sight of her parents over Hanna's shoulder.  
  
They were still running when a crashing sound behind alerted them to pursuit. Hanna whirled, terror making her body rigid, before pushing Kella high up the nearest tree. Talia felt more tears slide down wet cheeks as Hanna pressed the leather satchel into her arms, and whispered terse instructions to her weeping sister.  
  
"Climb, hide." She whispered urgently. "Don't make a sound!"  
  
With that injunction, she turned to face the bandits. Kella reached out once, involuntarily, before climbing as fast as she could. The satchell was surprisingly heavy, but Kella gripped it firmly as she climbed.  
  
At last, Kella looked out from a leafy branch near the top of the tree. Talia could see clearly the wagon that had been the family's home, and even hear the wind carried voices of the bandit. A body stretched out in front, on the road, and Talia identified it as the father.  
  
A bandit returned, dragging the struggling Hanna with him.  
  
"I found the brat, cheif." The bandit announced, flinging Hanna at the cheif's feet.  
  
The man turned her with one booted foot, noticing the bruise developing on one temple and Hanna's dazed, yet hate filled, eyes.  
  
"Very nice." The man murmured. "Tie her up with the woman." He ordered the bandits. "You can play with them once we're done."  
  
Talia watched in revulsion through Kella's tearfilled eyes. She was in no doubt what form this 'play' would take.  
  
Yet another bandit approached the chief, and Talia focused her mind again.  
  
"We found the drugs, cheif," the man reported, brandishing a small, canvas wrapped packet. "But there's no sign of the gold."  
  
Things began to fall into place. The family were traders, who apparently did smuggling on the side. They must be in the North mountains, near, if not in, Rethwellan. And the gold - that must be in the satchel that Hanna had taken. That would explain the weight.  
  
The bandit chief cursed. "Burn the wagon, then!" he shouted. "We need that gold!"  
  
Soon the ghastly scene was screened with smoke, but it did not shut out the noise of curses and screams, as the gold remained undiscovered, and the bandits getting their own back on the the women during their 'play'.  
  
Kella stayed hidden until nightfall, long after the bandits had left and the wagon was a charred ruin. Then she climbed, stiff from staying hidden too long, to the ground. She slipped off the lowest branch, paying no attention to the skinned knee she had gotten as she ran to the road.  
  
Tears burst again from Kella's eyes as she ran to the body's of her family, desperately trying to awaken them from their final slumber. In the end, she collaped on the road, tiny form heaving with shuddering sobs. Talia's heart wrenched with pity at what she had gone through, but she could only wait.  
  
The night grew old and the moon rose before Kella's tears dried up. This did not stop her grief, however, for she unconsciously projected a smarting stream of unhappiness to fill the mountain road.  
  
Hoofbeats sounded, chiming on the rocky track, and a white horse - a Companion - came into veiw, temporarily stopping Kella's grief from sheer shock. The Companion approached her, and bent his head to push gently at her with his soft nose.  
  
:I Choose you,: The masculine voice filled her mind, comforting and consoling. :I will protect you, and keep you safe. Come with me.: The Companion knelt on the road, and Kella clambered clumbsily onto his back, still dragging the leather purse with her.  
  
She tied the purse's leather strap to a ring on the saddle, and held onto a fistful of Sterran's mane as they rode off into the night. 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
  
*  
  
Talia returned to herself, slightly dazed, to find the girl, Kella, still sobbing, in her arms. Gently, she reached into her mind, and put her to sleep. Kella's hysterical crying had exhausted her anyway, and Talia was able to remove some of her fear at the same time. Talia put her on Sterran's saddle, noticing that even in sleep Kella's fingers tightened around the pommel. She stepped back to examine the Companion.  
  
"Sterran," He looked at her, blue eyes challenging. "Can you keep her shielded?"  
  
The Companion nodded without breaking eye contact.  
  
"If she isn't touching you?"  
  
The Companion shook his head without disturbing his sleeping burden.  
  
Talia turned to face Dirk and Teren, waiting impatiently for her news. "She's called Kella." She informed them. "She is Chosen, irregular as it may be." She rubbed the side of her face in an unconscious sign of exhaustion. Dirk stepped forward, placing an arm around her, keeping her upright.  
  
"What happened to her?" Teren asked Talia. "And why did she flin herself at you?" This last was said with a touch of resentment, as though Teren could not understand why he would be treated with terror, and Talia be welcomed like a long lost friend.  
  
"The second first." Talia replied. "I look very similar to her mother and her sister. It seems likely that she mistook me for a family member. And the first -" Talia shuddered slightly. Kella's traumatic memories were still firmly branded on her mind. "Her family were traders who did drug smuggling on the side. In the Rethwellan mountains, they were attacked by bandits. Her sister put her in a tree to hide, and led the bandits away from her. Kella got to watch her family being killed. The trauma released her gifts early. There's Empathy, and at least one other - I can't tell which, but the only gifts she has are communication gifts. She has no shields whatsoever." Talia sighed. "She will push emotions into the minds of anyone around her, and project her nightmares at people, and the only way Sterran can impose shields is if Kella stays in constant contact with him."  
  
"Sounds like another for Companion's Cottage." Dirk remarked, still supporting the exhausted Talia.  
  
"It does indeed." Said Teren, before catching sight of Talia's slightly bemused expression. "There have been other Chosen too traumatised to be separated from their Companions at first." He explained. "So Companion's Cottage was built. It's on one end of the tackshed - both Companion and Chosen can fit in it comfortably. It's perfect for those difficult situations."  
  
*  
  
Kella woke. She was on a straw bed, covered with canvas, pillowing her head on Sterran's flank. She was covered by a thick, warm blanket, and this place felt 'safe' to her. She opened her eyes.  
  
She was in a large, stone walled room. Unlike the waystations Sterran had taken her to, this had windows. They looked out onto a broad meadow, dotted with trees. There was a wooden door, which stood open. It was broad and wide enough for Sterran to walk through, with Kella on his back. Inside the room was a firplace, a bookshelf and a table and chair, as well as the matress that Sterran and Kella shared.  
  
A tray was on the table, and there was someone in the chair.  
  
She sat up sharply, before she relaxed again. She knew this person was no threat. She thought about this for a while, and then realized that she had been analysing her own behaviour. A week ago, she never would have done that. It was as though from the moment Sterran had Chosen her, she had woken up from a state of dream.  
  
:What did you do to me, Sterran?: she asked him in wonder.  
  
:Everything I know, you know.: he told her. :But it only works when you are touching me - when you move away, you are a tiny little girl who has just lost her parents.:  
  
That would explain why, when she wasn't touching Sterran, everything was suddenly so terrifying, and she suddenly couldn't think. :Will it always be like that?: she asked, slightly worried by this prospect.  
  
:No, only until you grow up a little.: Sterran reasured her. :In the meantime, things will work fine like this.:  
  
The person in the chair looked around. Kella recognized her - just vaguely. Yesterday, some people had taken her away from Sterran. She couldn't remember perfectly, but this person had come. She looked like Hanna, and Mother - without Sterran there to keep her out of her detatchedness, she would have run to this stranger again.  
  
It never occurred to Kella to be angry at this loss of her innocence. On the contrary, she was grateful to Sterran, for giving her the intelligence of an adult, rather than the confusion of a tiny, bereft child.  
  
The woman moved to look straight at Kella.  
  
"Good morning, Kella." The woman said. Her voice was soft, but easily audible in the quiet room.  
  
"Good morning, Herald Talia." Kella said in reply. Talia looked very surprised, and Kella thanked Sterran yet again for his gift of knowledge.  
  
Kella rose to her feet, keeping one hand on Sterran's leg as he rose as well. Kella folded the blanket and placed it on one end of the canvas- covered straw matress.  
  
Talia seemed to have recovered from her surprise at this point, and brought Kella the tray from the table. On it was a large breakfast; enough to make up for the scanty Waystation meals of the past few days. Kella took her seat again, and, using Sterran as a back rest, quickly ate the food. Talia had had the forethought to bring food for Sterran, too, and so he also had a good meal.  
  
Talia resumed her seat, watching Kella with a bemused expression. Kella's actions were not the actions of a four year old girl.  
  
Kella decided to take the initiative again. "Are there some clothes I could use?" she asked Talia politely. "These are not quite at there best."  
  
Talia's eyes flared with surprise again, but she answered easily enough. "In the cupboard." She replied. "Generally, the people Chosen by Companions wear grey, but we couldn't find any Greys to fit you, I'm afraid."  
  
Kella smiled wryly - an incongruously adult expression on her childish face. "Yes," she said dryly. "I doubt that you get many Trainees are as small as me."  
  
The cupboard was near enough to the bed that Kella could reach it without letting go of Sterran, and she pulled out a heavy canvas tunic, trews and a shirt. Although facing the other way, Kella could imagine Talia's expression of surprise.  
  
No doubt she thought I'd choose one of the dresses.Kella thought with a smile as she dressed in the clothes. The tunic was the right size, but the blue colour did not suit Kella as well as her usual dark green. Well, with the money she had in the purse - which she saw on the table - she could buy herself some clothes.  
  
"I assume you want to take me somewhere." The now dressed Kella told Talia crisply. "You have to report my awakening to your superiors, and perhaps get the Colegium dean to tell me that classes should perhaps wait until I'm settled in." Kella swung herself onto Sterran's bare back. "So lead on." 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
  
*  
  
Sterran gazed fondly at the small, blanket wrapped form that lay beside him. It was amazing, the way Kella was so like Giessa. Apart from the age, they could be the same person, and their mental patterns were identical.  
  
The bond between Giessa and Sterran, who was then Sertan, had been tighter than usual, and after their death, the two had decided to be reincarnated again in their previous forms, with the renamed Sterran promising to Choose Giessa as his Herald.  
  
I just didn't think I would have to Choose her this young.  
  
Giessa had been a precocious fifteen year old when Sertan had Chosen her. Sterran still remembered every trace and line of her consciousness when it joined with his own. This memory had been invaluable for Kella; her mentality was identical to Giessa's, and Sterran had been able to remove the attached memories from Giessa's experiences, and implanting the result in Kella's juvenile mind.  
  
Sterran wondered if he had made the wrong decision. True, Kella would eventually have the experience and intelligence that he had implanted, but he had taken away any chance she had of a normal childhood. And it took all his concentration to keep the implanted mentality from disintegrating; until Kella learned to shield and hold onto it, she would return to a confused, grief stricken four year old - and it would be a while before Sterran could restore her to her 'normal' state.  
  
I just hope she doesn't tell one of the Heralds what I did - or worse, one of the Companions. Rolan would not be pleased with Sterran if he discovered Kella's artificially increased intelligence.  
  
I just wish I knew if what I did was right.  
  
*  
  
Kella was still half asleep, lying on the bed with Sterran curled around her. Her dream was still there, with the blue-white voices whispering in her sleep-fogged brain. They said strange things, that Kella did not quite understand.  
  
: . . . Did you see the new stable boy? Terrified of us 'thinking horses . . .: : . . . the Healers say that my Andiron will only have a few scars . . .: : . . .Well, my Chosen can do second stage truth spell . . .:  
  
Who did the voices belong to? The blue-white glow was not like human minds. These were minds that filled her head with shining light, awestruck by their aura of overwhelming peace and love . . .  
  
:Good morning, Chosen.: Sterran's mindvoice was quiet and blurry with sleep.  
  
:Good morning, Ster. I had the strangest dream.:  
  
:Do tell?: Sterran murmured sleepily, still only half awake.  
  
:There were all these voices talking in my head,: she said, absently stroking Sterran's mane as she spoke. :They were sort of glowing, blue- white. They didn't talk to me,: she added regretfully. :Most of them didn't even talk to each other, really. It was like hearing random snippets from a hundred different conversations, all in my head.:  
  
:What were they saying?: Sterran's voice was so neutral as to be anxiety provoking, and his mind had shed every vestige of sleep.  
  
:Nothing much.: Kella replied, surprised by his odd urgency. :The longest conversation was strange - it went like this - :When I was a mage, I didn't use all my magics on all the silliest little things like Elspeth does.: :Oh, really, Savil? And what about all your Gates sending you off to the Peligirs to visit your friends?: :I recall there being a number of journeys to the Peligirs with your Chosen, too, Gwena, so don't argue with me . . .: - It doesn't make sense, Ster, it's just nonsense.:  
  
Sterran's head was ringing. He'd never heard of anyone who could listen in on what was obviously a conversation between two Companions. It certainly sounded like Savil - or rather, Sayvil. She had a tongue as acidic as her Chosen, Kerowyn's.  
  
Now Sterran had another dilemma - should he tell Kella who the 'blue-white voices' really were?  
  
Sterran wished his twin sister, Asterra, was here. She certainly wouldn't lecture him about being untraditional - she had Chosen a non-conformist Tayledras mage only a few months ago, and the two had fled Valdemar, with a bondbird in tow, to explore the untravelled lands.  
  
But untraditional as Asterra undoubtedly was, she had had the most common sense of any one of his acquaintance, and a truly wonderful sense of humor. It was sad to realize that he might never hear from her again.  
  
Especially when she might take attention away from my own twisting of the rules.  
  
But now was not the time to remininsce. What to tell his Chosen.  
  
:Kella?: Sterran said tentatively :Tell me if you hear the voices again, will you - it - it could be important.: That would do, at least until someone could help him.  
  
*  
  
The pair now sat in a grove of trees, Kella using him as a backrest. Hair still wet from a bath dripped onto his back, but Sterran was too hot to care. Besides the Summer warmth, the extreme concentration Sterran had had to exert to keep Kella from breaking down when the contact between them was severed had heated him, and this cool dribble helped - somewhat - in negating this heat.  
  
And that reminded him - :Kella?:  
  
"Hmm?" she replied drowsily, cocking her head in an incongruously adult gesture that reminded him of Giessa.  
  
:I think you should learn how to shield.: Sterran declared firmly. :It will help you to keep a hold of yourself when we can't touch.:  
  
"I was all right during my bath, wasn't I?" Kella objected.  
  
:And, let us say that it will also keep me from exhausting myself.: Sterran said delicately.  
  
"Oh." Kella blushed slightly in embarrassment. Sterran noted with amusement that the pink clashed with her chestnut hair. "But, who can teach me?"  
  
:I think I could take care of that.: Sterran declared smugly. :Now, we will begin with center and ground . . .:  
  
Over the next few hours, Kella made startling progress. She could now shield fully, keeping any stray thoughts out or in. Now the real test . . .  
  
:Kella,: Sterran said, :I'm going to step away for a moment. See if you can hold on to yourself.: He could see the nervous expression on her face as she stepped away. . .  
  
A stream of fear of grief hit him, and he leapt back beside the sobbing Kella. She clung to his leg while her shaking eased.  
  
"It didn't work, did it?" she whispered, obviously still shaken by the reaction.  
  
:No, and it should have.: Sterran replied, irritated at this unexpected failure. :Damn! We have got to get this sorted out.: 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4  
  
*  
  
Sterran was irritated. Not only did Kella seem unable to learn how to keep her implanted intelligence with her when she broke contact with Sterran, but her reactions were getting worse.  
  
Sterran shuddered as he recalled the most recent attempt. Kella had been overwhelmed with memories, and had burst into a fit of hysterical screaming. This had, when reestablishing contact had failed to return her to normal, summoned two Heralds and three Healers to the scene. Luckily, when Kella was calmed, she mentioned nothing to the rescue party to incriminate Sterran, so no lectures had been sent by Rolan.  
  
What was wrong with her? The 'implant' matched her mental signitures perfectly - there shouldn't be this kind of trouble over it.  
  
Perhaps she was just worried to much. Perhaps Sterran had pushed her too hard, and now she was too anxious to hold onto the implant.  
  
And in the meantime, Kella's worrying tendency to overhear the Companions had increased. Was this some byproduct of the mental implant? Had Sterran perhaps activated some as-yet unknown Gift with his mental tinkering?  
  
If only Asterra were here. She'd know what to do. But she had Chosen early, and Sterran had Chosen late, and she had come back to Valdemar for barely a candlemark before running away with her Chosen - Icefire, Sterran remembered - to explore the world.  
  
But for now, Sterran would sleep, and see what the morning brang.  
  
*  
  
"I heard the Voices again last night," Kella reported conversationally the next morning. "But - it was different this time. There were much fewer. I wonder why."  
  
Sterran knew, but he didn't reveal the fact. Bandits in the mountains - probably the same ones that had attacked Kella's family - were making a menace of themselves.  
  
And the fools sent only a Herald and an internee to deal with them.  
  
That had been a nightmare; after the pair's untimely death, the Heralds had boiled out like a wasp's nest, determined to destroy the bandits. This had made a serious dent in the amount of Heralds still around - in fact, apart from the disabled, there were no Heralds here anymore.  
  
Even the Trainees were gone, for the long Summer had hidden autumn and a sharp winter, and now the midwinter holiday had called the Trainees home.  
  
"And as well as that, there was another presence." This was startling. What could Kella be picking up now? "It felt - strong. It distorted the space around it. And it wasn't very happy."  
  
:I wouldn't worry, Kella.: Sterran told her, releived. :The Companions have all been sensing something like that, recently. We think a new gift is developing in the city.:  
  
"But this person was really upset!" Kella objected. She was an Empath, even untrained, and she had leapt to this as the focal point.  
  
:It's alright,: the Companion reassured her. :A new gift often developes when the bearer is going through hard times. Like yours.: There was the Companion equivalent of a chuckle. :I just hope we haven't got another Lavan Firestorm on our hands!:  
  
"Who?" asked Kella, frowning.  
  
:As his name implies, he was able to set fire to things with his mind.: Sterran shuddered. :He was being bullied, and accidently ignited the room. Some people were killed, others hurt. But for all that, he was Chosen by a Companion, and he became a hero.:  
  
Kella was intrigued. She knew that only good people were Chosen, but it seemed strange to be a murderer and a good person.  
  
:But this gift; we do know that it isn't Firestarting, so it isn't a worry. Perhaps this person will be Chosen soon, perhaps not. We will have to wait and see.:  
  
*  
  
Kella knew she was dreaming, even though the silver-blue voices that normally haunted her sleep were gone. Instead she faced a whirling maelstrom, of pain and fear and rage. She reached out with a tendril of Empathy, seeking instinctively to calm this person.  
  
Instead the Maelstrom pulled her in with it, until her vision was doubled: half looking at the emotion spiral from outside, in the metaphysical plane, and half watching from inside the head of someone else.  
  
*  
  
He tried to move away, but he placed his heavy, booted foot on one arm to stop her moving. Kella could feel the waves of sadistic pleasure as he ground his foot deep, making a bruise that would linger for weeks.  
  
Now that he could no longer remove himself, the whip came down again, scoring a deep lash on his bare back. Kella, too, felt the fiery pain, but she could not retreat from this, she could not leave this boy to face this alone.  
  
"Why?" growled the attacker, scoring another bloody track on the boy's back, making him cry out. When there was no answer, a solid kick was planted in his stomach. "Why didn't ye take the damn money?" Kella could feel the boy biting his lip. He gave no answer, but words blazed in his head.  
  
Because they couldn't spare it. The silver was needed for their rent. I don't rob a pauper, even if you do.  
  
"Ye robbed me, why couldn't ye rob 'im? Tis likely 'e stole it in th'first place!"  
  
I robbed you because you are a cheating bastard, and I needed the money. And he didn't steal it - he turned a theif in to the guard; the silver was reward money.  
  
Another kick was planted, and a groan escaped the boy. Visciously pleased, the man continued kicking him. Kella knew that if he'd had any food in his stomach, he would have vomited.  
  
"Bloody useless." The man stomped away, and the boy pulled himself painfully into a hidden corner, where he lay gasping.  
  
Worst day's work I ever did, robbing him. Now I'm bonded, property, and no one will ever listen. Not to one who's no better than a slave. The boy's thought was full of bitterness. But just because I was a theif doesn't mean I'll take a man's silver if he ain't inclined to spend it. Kella tried to smooth away his bitterness and anger. It twisted into a screaming loneliness that pulled at Kella's heart. She had never realised how lucky she was; she had had a loving family, and now she had Sterran. Who had this boy ever had?  
  
:I am here,: She whispered to him. :I am with you.:  
  
:Who?: His head came up, and Kella pushed back a rush of fear.  
  
:A friend.: She whispered to him. :I am here with you.:  
  
She wrapped him in a mental grip, holding him as his mind cried. He had been alone for too long, never had someone to weather the pain with him as Kella was. Tears ran, too long held back, as the boy was given someone to cry with. 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5  
  
*  
  
There were tears on Tran's face when he woke, and he remembered the voice that had given him comfort when he needed it. Stupid fantasy.  
  
He quickly wiped his face with one dirty ragged sleeve. If Jammsan saw him crying, he could not even imagine what sadistic torture would be inflicted on him.  
  
Tran scurried out of the corner to find a scowling Jammsan bearing down on him.  
  
"Lazy little bugger," Jammsan growled, fist knocking Tran to the floor. "You'll learn th'meaning of work, after I'm done wi' you."  
  
Fear became a rising sheet of rage; he was beaten up whether he was in the wrong or the right, every damn day! There was no one to help him, no one with him.  
  
:I am here,: the voice sounded in his head again. It did nothing to calm him, nothing to stop the beserk, helpless anger that pounded in his blood. :I am here!:  
  
He didn't hear the frightened voice, and all his anger burst from him in a wild, icy wave.  
  
*  
  
"No!" It was Kella. Her head was throbbing from the whirlwind of burning, icy rage she had been caught in. Her verbal cry was echoed by a mental one.  
  
:My Chosen!: It rang sharply in her mind, but Kella could tell that this was not Sterran talking, but another Companion.  
  
:Chosen?: This was Sterran, peering at her anxiously.  
  
"Got to go to the city," she gasped. "We have to!"  
  
Sterran didn't argue; he knelt on the ground, so Kella could scramble onto his bare back. She gripped his mane.  
  
"Hurry," she instructed him. "Go to the lower city!"  
  
The two galloped out of the palace grounds, catching up with another bare backed Companion, also heading to the beacon of pain and fear. Kella noted that this was a young Companion, and she was riderless.  
  
:My Chosen is hurt!: The words echoed in Kella's head, and she winced away. It was the same Companion who had shouted earlier.  
  
:He's your Chosen?: Kella replied in kind.  
  
She was desperately afraid of the uncontrolled power surge she had felt; there were no Heralds in Haven apart from the Queen and the Consort, and they would be too involved in the politics of Valdemar to concern themselves over an orphaned drudge in the lower city. Maybe if the boy was Chosen, he would be protected from the ramifications of his actions.  
  
Now the Companions were galloping through narrow, dirty streets. The terrifified inhabitants ducked away from them as they continued their reckless ride.  
  
Finally Kella found the beacon of distress. The air was cold in spite of the unseasonally warm autumn, and Kella's breath steamed.  
  
A crowd of angry and frightened people filled the street around a ramshackle building, but they made way for the two Companions. For the first time, Kella could see the building: half of it was destroyed, and the other half was covered in fantastic icy constructions.  
  
:I can't get in,: said the Companion mare, distressed. :My Chosen is hurting, and I can't get to him!:  
  
Kella did not stop to think; she slipped from Sterran's back and entered through one of the cracks. Small though she was, she still had to bend almost double to get in.  
  
Inside, the building was contorted strangely by the ice that pushed on it from the inside, and the cold cut into Kella's bones. She would have turned back, if not for the beacon of distress that called her onwards.  
  
As she neared the emotion, she also neared the center of the 'explosion'. Ice had pushed away from this central point in waves and spikes of frozen power. Kella ducked through a splintered doorway, and entered a perfect circle of icy splinters.  
  
Two figures were in the center; one, an adult, was indisputably dead, with icy shards jammed deep into his body. The other was a boy of perhaps eight years, who looked at Kella with haunted eyes.  
  
"I killed him," His voice was a shellshocked whisper. "I was angry, and I threw ice at him, and I killed him."  
  
Kella crouched next to him on the frozen floor. "It's all right," She said comfortingly. "I am here with you."  
  
*  
  
Sterran was anxious, as was the unnamed Companion mare beside him. Both were anxious for their Chosen; the mare because she could sense pain and distress, and Sterran because he couldn't. Kella normally could not last without contact with him; would she manage to find the boy and still retain her wits?  
  
"Move aside for the Guard!" ordered a voice, and an aisle was cleared to the ruined inn. The column of men approached, not noticing the Companions. "Right, now I want a doorway opened. We will bring the perpetrator to justice."  
  
The captain was surprised to suddenly find two angry Companions between him and his desired entrance.  
  
"Companions?" He said incredulously. "You mean the ones in their are Heralds?" Sterran nodded his head, and the mare whickered agreement. The guard captain scratched his head. "All right." He conceded. "Fall back, but keep aperimeter watch."  
  
It was only a short while before Kella emerged from the hole, leading a crawling Tran. The mare trotted over to them, with Sterran only a step behind.  
  
:I Choose you,: She said to Tran. The words were a distant echo in Kella's mind. :Now, quick, on my back. Kella and Sterran can sort this out.: She knelt on the ground, alowwing the bemused boy to mount, before galloping towards the palace.  
  
Kella had mounted Sterran, and was hoping to be able to leave unhindered, but she was unsurprised when the guard captain stepped in front of her.  
  
"Now, young missy," he said sternly "Where are you hurrying off to?"  
  
Kella decided to disconcert him like she had Talia, and she summoned an imperious tone. "I was returning to the Palace, to make sure that Trainee Tran was not seriously injured."  
  
The captain was obviously taken aback by her adult manner, but recovered swiftly. "Is that so? Well, I think you are going to tell me what exactly you children were up to."  
  
It seemed as though the man thought that she was a servant rather than, technically, a Heraldic Trainee. Kella decided to disillusion him. "I am Kella, a Heraldic Trainee. I was alerted to the fact that an untrained Gift had been triggered, and came here to find this. Tran was not aware of his gift, and unwittingly released it in self defence against his master, who unfortunately died. On his emergence from the building, he was Chosen, so any more inquiries must be sent through the appropriate authorities. Now I will return to the palace. Good day."  
  
With that, Sterran pushed past the man and galloped to the palace. 


	6. Epilogue

Epilogue  
  
*  
  
Teren looked at the two children, sitting with their Companions in the field. It had been a great shock to the Heralds to return triumphant from their bandit hunt to find a new trainee, with a new gift, in the colegium.  
  
"An ice creator." He said quietly to himself. "And a child to boot. Why is this job never dull?"  
  
"You wouldn't enjoy it if it was." Herald Dirk was sitting behind him. "Did you know that he named his Companion Frost?"  
  
"Appropriate. Did you know they're requesting a special gifts teacher?"  
  
"Already? Bright Lady, they will be the youngest Heralds in history, even if they did take four years to graduate." Dirk was amused.  
  
Teren sighed. "Especially since they're joining the rest of the Colegium next year."  
  
*  
  
Kella and Tran sat in the field with Sterran and Frost.  
  
"Do you think we should tell them we want to Graduate early?" Kella asked, grinning.  
  
Tran smiled back. The bruises had faded completely, and his thin face had filled out in the month he had spent in the colegium. "Nah. Let's leave them their illusions."  
  
*  
  
The End  
  
*  
  
Note:  
  
(I think) this is a prequel to a story about Kella and Tran as adults. I don't have a title yet, or a plot, (suggestions welcome) but I still think another story will be written. 


End file.
